In the Darkness
by afraidofanunlivedlife
Summary: The seasons change, people come and go, but for me nothing changes. Time stands still. Post-Mockingjay/Pre-Epilogue.


**A/N This is my first fanfic that I have actually written, so bear with me. Reviews are greatly appreciated! **

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"Run!" I scream as loud as possible. "Run, dad, run!" He doesn't hear me. _Why can't he hear me?_ "RUN!" I blink. I'm not in district 12 anymore. I'm not telling my dad to run, and I'm not watching the mine explosion. Instead, I am in the capitol. And I see Prim, and the parachutes. "Run, Prim, run!"

Nothing, she can't hear me either. I scream so loud that my whole body begins to hurt, my throat is on fire. "RUN!" Nothing happens. The memory just replays in this nightmare, but it all seem so much more vibrant. The explosions are larger, the fire burns hotter and the parachutes keep going off with no end in sight. I blink once again, and I'm back in the mines. This happens for much of the night, the interchange between telling my father to run, and telling Prim to do the same. Neither of them can hear me. Finally, I break free from the nightmares and awake, searching for his warmth and comfort but he's not there. Peeta; just another person who the Capitol has taken away from me. He may still be alive, but he's not my Peeta. The Peeta I know now has been taken by the Capitol, tortured, and his memories tampered with. There has been some progress since his arrival back to Victor's Village from the Capitol. He is continuing his treatment here, hoping that being back in District 12 will allow for his memories to fully return, even though he has nothing left here.

It's been a month since he's been back from the Capitol, six since I've been back. Sometimes it feels like it's been years since I saw my sister burst into flames before my eyes, other days it feels like it was just yesterday. Either the way, the pain caused by her death remain, fresh in my mind. When, I think of her, my whole body aches. I don't want to do anything. I lay in bed, curled so tight, I think one day I won't be able to move, actually hoping that I won't. I watch the sun set and rise through my window, hearing the life slowly return to the district. Greasy Sae comes to check on me in the morning and at night, I guess to make sure I'm still breathing. She usually leaves some food on the nightstand in the morning, but when she returns with dinner, it's still there, untouched. I don't feel hungry; I don't really feel much of anything, besides emptiness.

Every night since Prim's death, I've dreamt of her. Sometimes it is the memory of the parachutes exploding that I have nightmares of, other times, it's just seeing her helping people, being the healer that she was. No matter what I dream of, it hurts. The good memories are sometimes worse than the bad ones, because they show me how she was just a little girl. The little girl who I promised I would win, before the first Games. Everything I had done was to protect her, and I had failed. Day after day it feels the same, but still somehow different. I am the same, but everyone around me is changing…they're all healing, well not everyone. Haymitch drinks more than he did before all of this happened and Peeta…. No. I can't let myself think about him because if I do, I know I will never move from this bed again.

The cycle continues, Greasy Sae bring food that I won't eat, water that I chug ferociously, and clean clothes that sit for days until I've had enough. The district continues to be rebuilt, everyone out there is moving on, but I'm staying the same in this house. This house in victor's village seems like a never ending space with just me here. With my mother in District 4 and Prim gone, no, not gone, _dead, _I've never felt more alone. Being alone allows me time to think or rather not think about anything at all. Before I found out that Peeta was back I had no thoughts. My brain was devoid of them along with any hint of a feeling. But now that Peeta is back, there are many thoughts screaming in my head tonight. _Why is he here? He would be better back at the Capitol or in another district…anywhere but here, anywhere but near me. Why is he here?_ These thoughts run through my mind much of the day, and I slowly begin to drift off as the sun begins to set. I sleep for what feels like minutes until I am awakened to a dark room by terrible screaming. Unlike every other night, these screams are not in my nightmares, or even mine. These screams belong to Peeta.


End file.
